


A Cure For Artist's Block

by unnecessarilyflamboyantindividual



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oneshot, g a y, kind of angst then fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unnecessarilyflamboyantindividual/pseuds/unnecessarilyflamboyantindividual
Summary: Yusuke is struggling with his creative side, and Akira helps him with a trip to the gallery, although that isn't the actual cure, take a wild guess what is,,,,
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	A Cure For Artist's Block

**Author's Note:**

> uh my second work i would like to clarify i am not too proud of this because i just feel like it isn't that good idk also it might also be rubbish because i have had literally no sleep it is now 6am and i have no sleep schedule left but yeah hope you enjoy  
> also this was kinda meant to just be me dipping my toes in writing more smut but i fleshed it out (or at least tried) so yeah

It was a cold Autumn, the air cruel and bitter, stinging the cheeks of those outdoors. The rain falling outside was not of a calming nature, but was a persistent pounding on the windows of Yusuke Kitagawa’s dorm room. He was sitting in a stool with uncharacteristically poor posture, slouched over himself due to the complete lack of artistic creativity that he thrived and lived for. The weather did nothing to improve his moods either, a depressingly dismal grey sky looming oppressively over the city. The canvas in front of him was completely blank, devoid of personality and any traits at all, a perfect depiction of his mind. In a way, it was art, as it displayed a dive into the creator’s mind, although such a suggestion felt much too pretentious for a modest artist such as himself. God, it was tough. You’d think after seeing the world be saved from a literal deity and partaking in it would be more than enough artistic inspiration to last a lifetime, but evidently not. After Christmas, Yusuke had been quite alone, no one bothering to visit him due to his eccentricity and “freakiness” as Ryuji or Ann would put it. He was usually very well composed, the most mature of the Phantom Thieves due to his level-headedness and general lack of emotion, but something about today was just so incredibly off-putting he started to cry. He felt ashamed to even do so, especially after promising himself to never be weak after confronting Madarame, which added to the already intense sorrow. Being alone often had its cons, as being surrounded and accompanied by only his thoughts was a very troubling experience. He knew no one would care about his current state, and even if they did there was nothing they could do; it was a common statement of teens that “No one understands them”, but in Yusuke’s case it was a harsh truth.

Akira Kurusu was very, very, very bored. Scrolling through social media on his phone had lost its mindless joy, and any other form of pastime was a chore and entirely dissatisfactory. It was cold in his room, so the teen had found as many blankets as possible and buried himself beneath them, hoping to fall aslepp for so long he’d endup hibernating. Alas, Akira Kurusu was not a bear, but a 17 year old boy, so he was often disappointed by his attempts at months-long unconsciousness. The post-shooting-a-literal-god-in-the-face thrill had disappeared after a few more months of school, and he hadn’t spent any time with his teammates since Christmas, and this boredom was simply too much for Akira, so he sent the same text to all his teammates.

Anyone free?

It was a few minutes until a buzz signalled a reply. He picked his phone back up, hoping for an affirmative. The text was from Ryuji.

Sorry, dude. Can’t hang, got way too much homework to get through. I should be free in a few hours though. 

A few hours? Was he made of time? Akira was nowhere near patient enough for a wait that long, so just replied with a dismissive “It’s okay, don’t bother” and waited further for a positive reply.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.

Four texts.

Ann, Makoto, Haru, and Futaba all responded negative, all of them having their own reason, ranging from professional (Makoto had plenty of studying to do for a test, and she was dead-set on acing it) to the less important (Futaba said she was killing a few low level goblins for experience, although she was probably entertaining herself by pointing a laser everywhere about her room and watching Morgana chase after it). It was official; Akira Kurusu had lost all hopes in having fun again, knowing he had been cursed to a life full of never ending, swallowing, empty boredom, he would never be happy again, in fact, he should probably cease livi- bzzz.

It was one more text.

Hello, Akira. I’ve recently been struggling with artist’s block, and I think a day spent with you would be the most beneficial experience I have had in months. 

It was Yusuke, his formal and mature manner showing through even in his text.

Great! How about a day at the gallery? I heard there’s a new exhibition up.

Akira didn’t know too much about art, the most creative thing he’d created probably being the post it notes reminding him to revise on his desk, but he knew how much Yusuke appreciated art, so it seemed like the right choice.

Ah, well, I am still vaguely uncomfortable in galleries due to Madarame, but I supposed I could stop being so immature and go and see this new exhibition you referenced.

Could you stop being so serious, pretty boy? Try and lighten up a bit. If anything disturbs you I’ll make sure you get somewhere more comfortable. See you at 3. 

In his resultant ecstatic frenzy caused by the prospect of someone spending time with him he hadn’t noticed he’d adapted Ann’s name for Yusuke, and hadn’t considered whether he would be comfortable with it, so he started to type out an apology, only the art student had sent a text before he could finish.

That sounds great. Oh, and don’t feel the need to apologise for referring to me as “pretty boy”. It usually annoys me, but for some reason I am actually quite fond of it when you do it. Is that odd? I do hope not. Anyway, if you wish to talk further about that, we can do it at the gallery. See you there.

Akira stared at his phone screen, slightly confused regarding Yusuke’s reply; it seemed as if he had been flirting with him, although that was entirely out of character for him. But, contemplations aside, he was finally going to interact with a human being outside of school, and the feeling was heavenly. The raven-haired teen hastily threw on some clothes and a few layers to keep him warm, and hurried out the door of LeBlanc to the subway. The ride was relatively short, about 15 minutes, so he arrived at the museum at 3:05, five minutes later than his target time, and Yusuke’s disappointment was not subtle, to say the least.

“You’re late, Akira.”

“Only by five minutes.”

“There is no excuse for poor punctuality.”

“Give me a break, pretty boy. I haven’t had a moment like this since Christmas, so you can’t expect my human interaction skills to be top notch.”

“An odd way to word it, but yes, I suppose loneliness can affect one’s social skills. Oh, and you have referred to me as “pretty boy” two times now, and I still experience an odd emotion when you do so, and I think we should discu-”

“C’mon, let’s go check out this gallery.”

“Well, I fear my immature fears are still present, and I feel I will need some sort of physical stimulus to remain calm.”

“Why don’t you hold my hand then, hmm?” Akira teased.

He did not expect for Yusuke to actually take his hand.

“That was a joke, Yusuke.”

This was met by an incredibly uncharacteristic blush, and stubborn silence. 

“Do you like holding my hand?”

Yusuke’s face scrunched up slightly, and then muttered a quiet “...Yes.”.

It was an odd feeling, but it was a good one, so Akira gave his hand a squeeze and they walked into the gallery.

The heating was on, and the two were immediately much more comfortable indoors. The entrance opened into a relatively small hall , which then branched into several corridors, the walls covered in paintings. Yusuke’s grip on Akira’s hand became less tight, but he still moved a bit closer to him. The first painting they looked at was a nighttime cityscape, a sea of concrete and electric lights.

“It’s such a beautiful piece. I believe it portrays the looming threat of industrialisation while also presenting the glory and aesthetic appeal it can provide to society. Don’t you agree, Akira?”

“Uhm, I guess? Art isn’t really my thing Yusuke, and I’m sorry I don’t “get it”, you know?”

Yusuke’s face showed a hint of sadness along with disappointment.

“It’s okay. We can still enjoy being here together. Right?”

“Oh-uhm, yes, I guess, we can, pretty boy.”

Yusuke’s face lit up at hearing those words.

Referring to Yusuke as “pretty boy” had started as an accident, then a joke, but now it had stuck, and it seemed to make Yusuke happy, so Akira stuck with it. Anyway, he probably didn’t understand flirting, anyway, so nothing more would happen. He thought.

They moved onto the next painting, a depiction of a normal railway drenched in red and black, blurry malformed figures spread across the piece. 

“This bears an uncanny resemblance to Mementos.”

“So it does. Did you paint this?”

Yusuke laughed. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in a while; hell, Akira didn’t even know if he’d heard it ever before. It sounded oddly empty in a way, yet the laugh still felt genuine. It was quite unnerving, but Yusuke didn’t seem to notice the slight fear on his partner’s face.

“Alas, my artistic skills do not reach this level of expertise. My pieces are those of a more abstract sense; the contents of this work are much too sharp to be my work.”

“That still doesn’t answer why it looks so much like Mementos.”

“Oh.” The artist had seemingly been entertained with thoughts on this specific expression, and had completely dismissed the fact that this implied someone had been to the Metaverse for this painting to be such an accurate portrayal of it.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. Well, we needn’t worry ourselves with the connotations of this piece. Let us enjoy the rest of this wonderful art.”

They spent ages wandering those polished corridors, painting after painting, discussion after discussion, and “time passed like the rushing river” in the 7th painting, and the “sense of reality faded like the phantasms” in the 12th, and every other painting was used as a subject in some wonderfully poetic simile but Yusuke said so many Akira eventually stopped paying attention less on his words and more on his appearance. His hair was a wonderfully dark blue, the lights above causing it to shimmer slightly, and his eyes were that same deep, ocean coloured shade, pools of peace Akira felt like he could just drown in. He imagined what it would feel like, slowly falling into a never-ending pit of thoughtfulness, all the disturbing noise of the world fading into quiet; he could even hear those muffled sounds right now. They sounded a lot like Yusuke’s voice. A lot. Like, exactly like Yusukes’s voice.

“Akira? Akira? Hello? You appear to have entered a catatonic state. Are you alright?”

Oh. It was Yusuke’s voice.

“You have been staring at me for about ten seconds. It is worrying. When you called me pretty boy I did not expect you to think I am so pretty I can render you immobile.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I guess you are just that pretty. In all honesty, I’d rather stay looking at your face than any of these paintings.”

Yusuke blushed, the shade of pink extremely contrasting to the usual paleness of his face.

“I-I did not think you actually considered me someone attractive-I thought it was one of your jokes-”

“Well, it wasn’t.”

Yusuke’s blush became even redder as Akira moved his hands over his smooth cheeks, his garnet eyes adoring the pair opposite.

“Um, Akira, I am not entirely sure, what you plan on doing-”

“Oh, don’t worry, we aren’t going that far straight away-”

“No, Akira, you don’t understa-”

“Wait, do you not like-”

“Akira, we are being stared at.”

“Ah.”

A group of gallery guides were staring at them, not sure what they were interrupting.

“Yes?”

“Oh, well, we were just going to tell you that we’re closing now, so if you two could please leave that would be appreciated.” One guide said, a questioning gaze on his eyes.

“Oh, sure thing.”

Akira took Yusuke by the hand and as they walked away, Akira said “Yes, we are gay.” and exited the gallery.  
It was getting dark out, so they hurried to the station and caught a subway back home. Yusuke ended up following Akira to LeBlanc, and when asked why he shyly said “I didn’t want to leave you.”, a response so adorable he practically melted at the sound of it.

“Aww, that’s sweet. Oh, and do you want to know what I was going to do with you in the gallery?”

“Uhm no, I-”

“This.”

Akira pressed his lips to Yusuke’s, his hands feeling his fair skin and Yusuke’s around Akira’s neck. After a while he tried to pull away, but his artist boyfriend pulled him back into the kiss. It lasted a few minutes, but to them it felt like an eternity. A never-ending moment of bliss, the two lovers intertwining with each other in a tight embrace.

Eventually, they both stopped at the same time.

“How was that?”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll be suffering from artist’s block.”, Yusuke said with a shy smile.

“Great. Well, we should be heading back.”

“But….by now, my dorm is locked. It’s too late. Could I, perhaps-”

“Of course we can share a bed.”

“Oh- I- thank you, Akira.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have more to thank me for soon.”

Yusuke blushed yet again at this remark, when Akira grabbed his hand and snook into the attic as quickly and quietly as possible. Once they had got there, Akira took his shirt off to reveal a sculpted chest, a sudden advancement surprising the artist. 

“Oh- are you going to be my muse?”

“Huh. I don’t know. I’d say the other way round.”

“What do you mea-” he was cut off by his mouth meeting another, and eventually meeting a tongue as well. His eyes were wide open in shock for a few seconds, but he eventually closed his eyes and let the pleasure wash over him, kissing back and sucking on Akira’s tongue.

“Mmh- Akira, I-, what are you-” interjected Yusuke, consistently getting cut off by his own moans of pleasure.

“You’ll see.” Akira purred.

He resumed kissing with Yusuke, swirling his tongue around the other and pushing his partner onto his bed. As Akira licked and softly bit Yusuke’s neck, he smoothly pushed the blue shirt upwards, now kissing the chest while moving downwards. Yusuke bit his sleeve, a barely stifled moan escaping his mouth as Akira slowly pulled down his and Yusuke’s trousers and underwear, revealing their two rock-hard cocks.

Akira saw the desire in Yusuke’s face, but he wanted to tease him first. He gradually inserted two fingers deep into the artist’s tight asshole, moving them back and forth, stretching it so he could fit his length in. Yusuke cried out a few times in an intoxicating mixture of pleasure and pain, and Akira could wait no longer. He got up after sharing one more passionate kiss, and hurriedly grabbed a condom and lube out of a drawer. He hastily put the condom on after lubing up, and started to move his cock into Yusuke’s hole; he shivered in response, the sensation sending tremors around his body. He moved deeper in, the pulsing of Yusuke’s insides making a groan escape Akira’s mouth, the arousal making his cheeks flush bright red.

Akira continued to thrust in and out in a teasingly slow manner, until neither of the boys could wait any longer, and he started to speed up. He slid in and out, faster and faster, the muscles of both of them tensing more and more, the two quivering in anticipation and pleasure. They both felt a fire pooling low in their abdomen, a building-up of pressure, until one final thrust, after which time slowed down as the two dissolved into pleasure, an electricity spreading between the couple, which eventually faded into static, and then to black.

The artist and his boyfriend woke up the next day, the bitter Autumn now replaced with the pleasing Winter, the streets covered in snow. They shared a kiss, and Yusuke leaned on Akira’s shoulder, and they basked in adoration while watching the snow fall.


End file.
